Mirror Image
by Orlandoroxmysox
Summary: Fred and George can't explain the strange feelings they've been having. Will they end up pushing each other away? Each chapter based around a song by Anberlin, diff. song for each chapter, FWGW, Rated M for later. :wink: Hate Twincest? Don't read this.
1. Longing

**Mirror Image: Longing**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does, though I'd love to take the twins home with me.  
**Pairings: **Fred/George (sort of)  
**Summary: **Fred and George have feelings for each other that they can't figure out, but can't ignore, either...  
**Song: **Ready Fuels by Anberlin

The door to the small, dark bedroom opened with a bang as the two exhausted inhabitants dragged in, sweaty and sore from a great game of Quidditch. Down the hall, their younger brother was already asleep, still fully clothed, and their parents were readying for bed. Their two eldest brothers were occupying the bathroom, one waiting outside the door while the other showered, waiting for his turn, trying not to fall asleep against the wall on which he was leaning.

"Some game, eh?" one said as he sat on the bed, running a hand through his hair and sighing tiredly. The other nodded, leaning against the opposite wall.

"Ickle Ronniekins may actually have a shot at Keeper this year, but-" George started.

"-we musn't let him know that." Fred finished with a small smirk. He kicked his shoes off and peeled his sweaty shirt off of his torso, tossing it in the direction of the hamper. His chest glistened with a light sheen of sweat in the moonlight filtering in through the windows.

After a moment, George realized he was staring and lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling instead. He ferverently ignored the funny feeling blossoming in the pit of his stomach. It had been happening for weeks now; George would see his twin with a towel around his waist after a shower, or just sitting at the kitchen table, even, and he'd find himself gazing hungrily at those lips, so much like his own. It scared him.

He'd never had feelings like this for a boy before, especially not his twin brother. His _twin_. What would Fred think if he knew? What would his family, his friends, think?

----

_Its gotten over without a key or gasoline tonight  
Fill everything on fire and just to kill you for your just goodnight  
Help me to wait on you, hesitate on through, cause I'm alone  
Feel so jaded, contemplative, waiting for you_

----

Fred was watching George nervously from where he stood. He was grateful for another opportunity to look at his brother for as long as he wanted. Often when they went to bed, Fred would delight in his brother's warm body against his, and would find himself staring at his brother's sleeping form for who knows how long, admiring him, before finally falling asleep.

Fred knew he had a crush on his twin; it was undeniable. And while Fred knew it was wrong, it's not as though anything would come of it. There was no harm in just looking. Now, as George lay there, oblivious to his brother's gaze, Fred admired his mirror image. They were identical, but Fred had found that George had a slightly pointier nose than he, and green flecks in his beautiful blue eyes as opposed to the gold flecks in Fred's. The freckles on his back were a unique pattern, very simliar to the markings on Fred's skin but with extra smatterings here and there, or an expanse of creamy skin in a spot where Fred's skin was mottled with the little brown flecks.

The shower finally shut off, and the twins could hear whoever had been the last to use it tiptoe down the hall and into their bedroom, the door shutting with a quiet click. George sat up, stretching, and met Fred's eyes. "Guess we'd better shower, then." he said. A blush spread across his cheeks almost instantly as he imagined both of them showering together. George shook it off, before noticing that Fred was staring at him. Standing up, George gazed directly into Fred's eyes, unblinking, trying to read the strange look in his twin's stare. After a moment, Fred snapped out of it and blushed, clearing his throat and looking at the windows past George's head.

"Right. Well, uh, I guess I'll go first, then." Fred answered awkwardly, turning towards the door. His brother's voice, soft and low, stopped him.

"Fred." he said simply, taking a step toward his brother. Fred turned toward him and they stood, a few feet apart, looking at each other again. They saw the longing in each other's eyes and both started to get nervous.

'It's not right, we're twins. TWINS, for godssakes. I shouldn't want to kiss him. But I do, so badly...' George thought, his gaze never moving from Fred. His eyes trailed slowly to Fred's lips, and back up to his eyes again.

'I'm completely buggered. I want to kiss my goddamn twin. God, that's not all I want to do to him. This is sick, it's wrong... it doesn't feel wrong, though. God, he's so beautiful.' Fred thought as he took in the sight of his brother, the moonlight making an aura around him, his sweaty shirt clinging to the lean muscles of his arms and shoulders, his eyes smoldering. Fred was shocked as he watched George's eyes drifting to his lips. His knees turned to jelly.

"George..." Fred said weakly, trailing off. The butterflies in his stomach were doing a frantic dance, pushing upwards, overtaking his throat and drowning out his words. George looked at the floor, swallowing nervously.

"I'm going to go shower." he muttered, heading for the door. He swept past Fred and out of the room, quickly locking himself in the bathroom and leaning against the door. He had seen the way Fred looked at him. He had woken up once, barely slitting his eyes open against the moonlight, to see Fred gazing at him, almost...lovingly? George turned on the shower and peeled his sweaty clothes off, stepping into the rush of hot water and steam with a sigh. He thought of his brother, standing there, bathed in shadow from George's tall frame blocking the light from the window, his eyes burning a hole through George's, hungry, but there was a pain behind it. George felt it now, leaning against the shower wall. Fred felt the same way about him, and it was hopeless. A fantasy that would never come true.

----  
_(we're running) We're running hard tonight and it feels so good  
Your arm in mine, here, nearly midnight and it feels so right  
Girls and the boys chase down running hard tonight_

----  
Fred sat on the twin's full-sized mattress and sighed. He might have imagined the look in his twin's eyes, for all he knew. The way George left...it was as if he couldn't get away from Fred fast enough.

"Great, now I've put him off." Fred muttered aloud. Pulling his pants off, he slipped into a pair of pajama bottoms and lay on his side of the bed, on top of the covers, his hands laced under his head as he stared up at the ceiling. He imagined patterns, faces of people he knew, etched out in the bumpy pattern of the ceiling.

"I'm sorry, George." he said aloud. "I'm sorry I looked at you that way. I'm sorry I had those feelings for you and I'm sorry nothing can come of it." Fred continued, quietly, to the ceiling. He knew he wouldn't feel any better saying it; not if George weren't there to hear him. To accept his apology, or turn away from him. To give him closure and help him end this game that was slowly wearing on his heart. He was unaware of the person standing on the other side of the door, listening to every word.

----

_Running down the ready fuels it's finally over, just get over  
Time will tell if all turns out ok  
Help me to realize my dream is dying, redefine just where I turned away  
So look the other way tonight_

----

George stepped out of the shower, muttering irritatedly that Ginny should move her strawberry-scented shampoo away from his as he kept using it by mistake, wrapping a towel around his waist. Opening the door, George entered the hallway in a rush of steam as cool air hit the balmy interior of the bathroom. He tiptoed down the hall to his and Fred's bedroom, trying to come up with a plan. Should he bring his feelings up? Or just go to sleep and ignore the look he had seen, finally, after wishing to see it for so long, in Fred's eyes? Sighing, George ran a hand through his wet hair and stopped in front of the door, which was cracked open just barely.

He was reaching for the door handle when Fred's voice stopped him.

"I'm sorry, George."

----  
_  
(we're running) We're running for it tonight and it feels so good  
Your hand in mine, here, nearly midnight and it feels so right  
Girls and the boys chase down running for it tonight _

Can you wait for me a little, little longer?

----

George gaped at the door as his twin's quiet voice emanated through the crack.

"I'm sorry I looked at you that way." George's eyes widened and his hand dropped to his side.

"I'm sorry I had those feelings for you-" His lower lip began to tremble.

"-and I'm sorry nothing can come of it." His eyes slowly filled with tears.

----  
_  
(we're running) We're running for it tonight and it feels so good  
Your hand in mine here, near midnight and it feels so right  
Girls and the boys chase down running for it tonight _

----

Fred sighed, closing his eyes. He felt a sob welling up in his throat but he choked it back. A few tears rolled down his cheeks as his heart started to ache. He wished George were in bed so that he could have his nightly dose of his twin, so that he could cast his eyes upon his beautiful, forbidden fruit and let his fantasies tape his heart back together, at least until the next day.

George silently pushed open the door, slipping into the darkness of the room. Fred didn't notice; his eyes were still closed, and he was oblivious, staring at the back of his eyelids and wondering vainly what to do.

Slipping the towel off, George pulled on a pair of boxers and a clean shirt with the stealth of a cat, never once alerting his twin that he was in the room. Taking a step towards the bed, George took a moment to admire the peaceful look on his face, the moonlight caressing the contours of his body. He noticed the tear streaks and his bottom lip took to trembling again, a few tears slipping from his own eyes. The emotions flooding his body were overwhelming. He carefully slipped onto the bed next to his twin, his mirror image, his other half, and lay next to him, their skin centimeters apart.

Fred tensed, feeling George's weight shifting the bed. He could smell the intoxicating scent of George's skin, the smell of the soap they used mixed with strawberries. He must have used Ginny's shampoo by mistake again. Fred smiled and breathed in. There was always a hint of something else, as well...but Fred never pinpointed it. It was something unique and wonderful, and Fred often wondered how his scent could make Fred think of a million things at once...pine needles, apples, a faint hint of cinnamon. Fred imagined that George smelled like summer.

Fred could feel the heat emanating off his skin and George's, mingling in the small space between them and swallowed nervously.

George's gaze was still fixed on Fred, and he had a strange desire to reach out and touch him. The moonlight gave his skin an unearthly glow and George briefly wondered if it would feel as good as it looked against his. Blushing slightly, George inhaled deeply. The scent of Fred's skin, of sweat and salt and an underlying hint of warm apple cider, sweet and sultry.

'I can't bear this much longer.' Fred thought, opening his eyes to look at George. He was startled to find George looking back at him, his eyes half closed, his lips parted. George met Fred's gaze and Fred saw the raw longing staring back at him, a mirror image of his own. George's eyes widened a bit and the longing started to slip behind a mask of awkwardness. Fred could feel himself blushing.

"G'night, Fred." George said after a moment, breaking the silence. His tone was almost...disappointed, as he slipped under the covers and rolled onto his side away from Fred, cursing himself. Fred sighed and slipped under the covers as well, turning towards the windows.

"Night, George." he whispered. Fred waited until he felt his twin's breathing become steady and slow before turning over. It was well into early morning before Fred could fall asleep, the daunting image of his twin imprinted on his mind, his thoughts stirring and keeping him awake until he finally fell into dreamless sleep.

----

Can you wait for me a little longer?

----

Hey, all! I'm so sorry about the lack of updates on Overachiever and the like, I've gotten so busy, and my inspiration is taking it's sweet time to come back to me. My latest musical obsession is Anberlin, and I've recently taken to reading twincest fics (I got bored, came across one and got hooked). I listened to Ready Fuels, and looked up the lyrics, and got this sudden rush of inspiration for a songfic. Please review, I'd like to know what you think. This will most likely either have a sequel coughRATEDMcough or turn into a chapter story.

Thanks for reading and please review!!

-Charlotte-

P.S. I cut out a bit of lyrics at the end:

_(we're running) We're running for it tonight and it feels so good  
Your hand in mine here near midnight and it feels so right  
Girls and the boys chase down running for it tonight_

I liked ending it where I did. Sorry, Anberlin!


	2. Miscommunication

**Mirror Image: Miscommunication**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does, though I'd love to take the twins home with me.

**Pairings: **Fred/George

**Summary: **Fred and George know that something has changed between them. But what? And how will they fix it?  
**Song: **Foreign Language by Anberlin

George was the first to wake up. The house was still quiet, the sun barely beginning to rise over the horizon, the room still quite dark. He yawned quietly, slowly opening his eyes, and stifling a shriek. Fred's face was centimeters away, their noses almost touching, Fred's hot breath on his skin. George swallowed nervously and realized how warm he was. 

----

_Boys speak in rhythm and girls in code  
Tell it to me straight, give it to me now  
Face forward, face forward_

---- 

Sensation drifted into his limbs and he realized, with a mixture of happiness and horror, that his legs were intertwined with Fred's, one of his twin's arms around him. George thought frantically for a moment, trying to come up with a plan to sneak out of bed, before sighing and deciding it would just be best to stay this way.

George watched his twin sleep. He found himself admiring his eyelashes, his fiery red eyebrows that faded to almost blonde towards the outer edges, the strange, unique cluster of freckles near his right eye, one that George didn't have there. Just creamy, pale skin. George lifted his hand to his twin's face and softly touched the small group of markings, a constellation on the map of Fred's face. Fred's eyelashes fluttered and he sighed, shifting slightly, and George drew his hand back quickly, pretending to be asleep.

Fred's eyes snapped open and his hand flew to his face. He could have sworn George's hand was there a moment ago. The place next to his right eye tingled, like George's fingerprint had been branded on his skin. Maybe it was just a dream. Fred lowered his hand with a small sigh. George looked asleep...but his breathing was a bit fast, like he was panicked.

"George." he whispered, gently shaking his twin's shoulder. George's eyes snapped open.

"What?" he hissed back, squinting and pretending as though he were irritated at being 'woken up'. He hoped, desperately, that Fred hadn't caught him.

"Were you having a bad dream, mate?" he whispered, his hand still on George's shoulder. "You looked pained and your breathing was weird."

"Y-...Yeah. Just a bad dream." George muttered, sighing softly with relief.

----

_Boys speak in rhythm and girls in code  
Tell it to me straight, give it to me now  
Face forward, face forward_

---- 

Fred's hand was still on his shoulder, and both twins looked at it and at each other awkwardly before Fred quickly jerked his hand away and cleared his throat.

"What time is it?" he asked quietly, straining to see the clock over George's shoulder. George turned his head and sighed.

"Four fifty-three. I'll never get back to sleep at this rate." he said irritatedly. "Why were you up, anyway?" he asked, suspicion lacing his voice, though it was for show. George wanted to keep the private moment he had stolen, moments ago, to himself. A precious secret.

"I, er...I dunno." Fred answered lamely. George raised an eyebrow, then sighed and gazed at his twin. They spent a few moments simply staring at each other, imprinting each other's faces in their minds before Fred awkwardly looked away and George closed his eyes.

----

_Speaking foreign language, nothing I can translate  
You're speaking foreign language, nothing I can dictate  
you're speaking foreign language_

----

George stared at the back of his eyelids and wondered how identical twins could have so many little differences, tiny quirks that no one seemed to notice. Like the freckles near Fred's eye, or the way his eyelashes were a little longer than George's, or his just slightly broader shoulders.

"Fred, I..." George started, opening his eyes. He fully intended to bring up hearing him last night, to discuss it, to be honest. There was a weight pressing down on him, like an elephant slowly stepping on his chest the longer he waited, squeezing the air out of him.

"Yeah?" Fred asked, turning his gaze back on George, who sighed. He couldn't. Not now. How would he bring it about? How would he address it, how could he pour out his feelings, when he didn't even fully understand them himself?

----  
_  
Boys speak in rhythm and girls just lie  
Tell me how you feel, come out of the dark  
Then we can head back home and I'll know where to start_

----

"Nothing." he whispered, closing his eyes and resting his head back against the pillow. Fred felt disappointment, an arguement, a confession, something, welling up in his throat, but couldn't speak. Sighing, he mimicked his brother. George's breathing evened out again after a bit, and Fred stared at the ceiling. It was then that he realized that their legs were intertwined. How had he not noticed this before? A blush crept across his cheeks, drowning out the freckles on the skin it touched. He didn't dare move them; he would wake George up again.

Fred relaxed his body and watched his twin, shoulder slowly rising and falling with each breath. He traced every line, every contour, of George's face with his eyes. He loved it when he found something about his brother that was unique, that Fred didn't have. It was something he privately prided himself on, knowing that he was the only one who knew that the soft, downy hairs on the nape of his twin's neck were so light they were practically blonde, and how his left thumb was slightly longer than his right, and that his hands were just a tad smaller than Fred's.

It was something he lorded over the rest of the family, in his mind. A precious secret.

----  
_  
Speaking foreign language, nothing I can translate  
You're speaking foreign language, nothing I can dictate  
you're speaking foreign language  
nothing I can translate  
you're speaking foreign language._

----

Fred reached up to touch his twin's neck, his fingers ghosting over the soft, feathery hairs. He pulled his hand away after a moment with a small sigh and closed his eyes, letting himself drift back into sleep as well.

George's eyes snapped open in disbelief. He had never gone to sleep, merely pretended, hoping Fred would follow suit. As he watched his brother sleep, truly sleep, George gently touched the back of his neck. His skin tingled where Fred had touched him. A funny chill shot up his spine and George shivered.

'When did we get so awkward around each other?' George wondered. Their conversations weren't as easy, as lighthearted, and George couldn't remember when it had started. The little hairs on the back of his neck were raised and George, true to his word, couldn't get back to sleep, no matter how hard he tried. The heat between their skin where their legs were still entangled was too distracting.

----  
_  
Where did we go wrong?  
We need medication for this miscommunication  
where did we go wrong?  
Our conversation's weakened  
conversations weakened_

----

The sun burst through the windows, searing against Fred's eyelids. He squinted as he woke up, stretching his long limbs. Instantly he sensed something was wrong. He realized that his legs were free of George's, and that he was turned toward the windows.

His head whipped around to see that the spot next to him was empty. Sluggishly, Fred got up, yawning as he pulled on a shirt. He could hear Molly bustling about downstairs. She would be waking them all up any moment for breakfast. Fred was too distracted by that morning's events, the strange shift in the way they spoke to each other, to notice George coming in.

"Mum says breakfast is ready." George murmured. Fred nearly jumped out of his skin.

"A-alright." he stammered. George left, his footsteps receeding down the stairs and into the kitchen. Fred let out a breath he realized he had been holding in and ran a hand through his hair.

'What changed between us? When did it get so awkward?' Fred wondered, slowly padding down the hallway. The smell of bacon met his nose before he got to the stairs and his stomach growled, but he ignored it.

'More importantly, how can I fix it?'

----_  
_  
_Boys speak in rhythm and girls in code  
Boys speak in rhythm and girls just lie_

----

Haha! I couldn't resist writing the next chapter before bed. I really love this story so far, it's starting to really grow on me. I may do more chapter stories with band themes throughout. I 3 Anberlin...yes, I've said it already, but I do. I like the way this is turning out, and I can't wait to write the next chapter. Ahh, Fred/George. Say hello to my new obsession. :

Review please!

-Charlotte-

**REVIEWS:**

rain-feathers: I got an account just to review your story. It's so fricken awsome! I love the way you describe all the little nuances between the twins and wrapping each chapter around a song is a very cool idea. Really, it's well written! Please keep it up!

_Wow! Thank you so much! This review made my day! hands $100 Ahem, tell your friends. Haha! Thank you! _

Street Trash: This is great! Update soon!

_Thanks! I'm working on the next chapter...mutters obscenities and glares at pile of homework Stupid school._

gezerette: im lovin it  
trademark that!  
also like the music. its kool and the gang

_Thank you for reviewing!!_

You guys are awesome! Keep it up! 

Angels-above: this is absoloutly brilliant! Please update soon! the twins story is so so sweet! Anberlin rules beyond all belief! I was listening to it, while I was wandering ariond fanfiction and I found a anberlin story, coincidence ne?! awesome! heh, the best song has to be either dismantle repair or godspeed, or love song or..okay all of them! hope u update soon!well done! x

_Thank you so much! Anberlin does rule beyond all belief, lol! Woot!_

asingledarkcrimsonrose: yay Char! -whoops and calls for more twincest-

_giggles Thanks, Gemma!_

**A/N: **03/09 Sorry, guys, I'm trying really hard to get the next chapter finished and updated, but I've just had so much homework lately! It's insane! I'll hopefully get it done this weekend!

-Char-


	3. Cold

**Mirror Image: Cold**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does, though I'd love to take the twins home with me.

**Pairings: **Fred/George

**Summary: **The twins are confused and angry...and start to pull away from each other. The family can't help but notice. What happened to make them so distant?  
**Song: **Glass to the Arson by Anberlin 

Fred walked into the kitchen and stopped, staring at the table. The family was sitting, gathering food onto their plates, a normal breakfast scene. But something was off.

Ahh. That was it. There was no empty spot next to George. He and George always sat together, always, no matter where they were or what they were doing. It was just a twin thing. Ron sat to George's left, and Ginny to his right. Mrs. Weasley looked up and smiled.

"Sit down and have some breakfast, dear." she said, pointing to the empty spot between Bill and Ron. Fred reluctantly sat, feeling odd as George continued to eat, avoiding his gaze entirely. Fred ate, all the while stealing glances at George, who never once looked up from his plate. 

----

_Tonight my heart is cold  
lost in your lies, shallow replies_

---- 

Fred sighed. "Sorry, mum, I'm not feeling too well. I think I'll just go back to bed, if that's alright." Fred stood up, grimacing and holding his stomach. Mrs. Weasley looked a bit alarmed and escorted him back to the twin's bedroom, making sure he was tucked into bed. Fred made sure to add in a few groans here and there to be convincing.

"You stay in bed and rest, hear me?" she said, somewhat menacingly, before bustling out and closing the door behind her. Fred sighed and turned towards the window, staring out at the sky, the passing clouds, the top boughs of a tree gently blowing in the wind. Anything but George. Of course, he couldn't think of anything but George.

----

_And gravity prevails this time its over  
And you think you're the one_

----

As he watched a wispy cloud slowly disappear, torn apart by a particularly strong gust of wind, he thought of how cold his brother had been acting. It felt strange to him, to feel distanced from his twin. The awkwardness between them had grown and grown, until it was as if there were an elephant in the room with them at all times, filling the room until they felt almost suffocated. Last night the elephant had grown considerably. Fred felt now as if it were stepping on him, crushing him under it's immense weight.

He buried his face in his pillow and let out a frustrated sigh. Now he really did feel ill. He tried to dash George from his mind and sleep, but for the next ten minutes he could only stare at the fabric of his pillowcase. Sleep refused to return. The sunlight glaring in through the windows didn't help, and Fred put the pillow over his head, trying to block out everything; the sounds from the kitchen, the sunlight, George.

----

_  
Calm me with your lies your simple tragedy  
It's all I wish to hear tonight  
and your all I wish to be  
And this is how we all fall_

----

George was silent all throughout breakfast, and his eyes never strayed from his plate. A nervous energy rushed through his veins. Fred was so close, and George felt so strange. Last night...and this morning...what was going on? He wished he could tell what Fred was thinking. Usually he knew exactly what was going through his twin's mind, but Fred was impossible to read now.

As Fred made his exit, George finally looked up. Bill was giving him a funny look. George silenced it with a glare and stood up, the scraping of his chair deafening in the silence as everyone stopped eating and watched him with mild curiosity. He washed his plate off, set it in the sink with more force than necessary, and stalked out the back door to the yard. He headed for the shade of the tree next to the gardening shed, sitting in the dirt and leaning against the trunk of the tree with a sigh.

He saw Ron staring at him through the kitchen window. He sent Ron scurrying with a death glare and sighed, leaning against the tree and looking up at the clouds. His eyes drifted to the window in his bedroom, and his thoughts wandered to Fred. George knew his twin was faking. The atmosphere in the kitchen had been so suffocated, so awkward. Fred felt it; he must have. He practically ran out.

"Do you really want to get away from me that badly?" George whispered aloud.

----

_Tonight my heart is cold  
Lost in your lies, shallow replies  
Tonight I'll just let go  
Lost in your eyes, transparent cries_

----

Fred pushed himself up onto his elbow, peering over the edge of the windowsill. Was that George? It was. What was he doing? Fred leaned forward to see.

All at once, he was staring at wood. Peeling himself off of the bedroom floor and rubbing his shoulder, Fred crawled to the windowsill on his knees and peered outside. His twin was leaning against the tree next to the garden shed, looking quite peeved. What was he glaring at? Fred ducked a bit, until only his eyes and the top of his head were visible, as George looked up. He didn't seem to be looking towards their- oh, no, he was definitely looking towards the window now. Fred gasped and froze, feeling himself flush, and wondered if George saw him. He was paralyzed; his eyes were drawn to George and no matter how he tried, he couldn't bring himself to duck down and break his gaze.

Then, all of a sudden, his twin's face fell. What was he thinking about?

Fred didn't need to ask himself that. He knew what George must be thinking about.

"Elephants." he said aloud.

----

_And innocence derailed  
Savage the poison  
Unhurried compass east_

----

Ginny was passing by the twin's room in the hall when she heard a loud thumping noise. Startled, she stopped and backed up a bit, standing outside the door. Listening, she heard some scuffling, and then it stopped. Ginny slowly reached for the door handle and silently twisted it, pushing the door open a crack and peering in, her natural curiosity getting the better of her.

She had seen the awkwardness creeping into her brothers' conversations, their presence when near each other, and she wondered what had happened. Ginny wasn't sure, but she knew that Fred wasn't sick. He was avoiding George, and she was determined to know why, even if it got her pranked horribly for spying on Fred.

Fred was kneeling near the windowsill, looking out as if mesmerized by something. Hadn't George gone out on that side of the house? Maybe Fred was doing some spying of his own.

"Elephants." Ginny's bewilderment grew. Elephants? Maybe Fred was ill. He was acting very, very odd. Should she say something, or just leave? Before she had a chance, something jabbed her in the ribs and she let out a shriek that would've waken the dead. Which was accurate, as the ghost in the attic began moaning and clanking about, disturbed from his nap.

Even as she was slapping Ron for sneaking up on her and ruining her mission, Ginny knew she was doomed.

----

_Calm me with your lies your simple tragedy  
It's all I wish to hear tonight  
and your all I wish to be  
And this is how we all fall_

----

George's eyes widened. He could've sworn that Fred was looking out at him. He got to his feet, straining to see something, but was greeted with the sunlight reflecting off the windowpane and washing everything out in an array of light. He turned his eyes away from it, striding inside again and heading for the living room.

He had just sunken comfortably into the couch when he was startled to his feet again by an unearthly shriek from the hall. George dashed up the stairs to the landing to see Ginny ripping Ron a new one. What had he done now? Ginny angrily stalked off and Ron slunk to his bedroom, holding his red cheek but grinning triumphantly, leaving George to stare absentmindedly at his bedroom door.

Suddenly, the door shut quite loudly, and George nearly jumped out of his skin. He cautiously tiptoed over to the door, leaning toward it, his ear almost touching it, and wondered if he would finally get a bit of a clue as to what was going on.

----

_Tonight my heart is cold  
Lost in your lies, shallow replies  
Tonight I'll just let go  
Lost in your eyes, transparent cries  
_  
----

Fred let go of the windowsill and whipped his head around as he heard a shriek coming from the entryway to his bedroom. Had his door been cracked this whole time? Ginny. Damnit. She was such a nosy little pest sometimes. Fred resolved to get her back later- sneak a Puking Pastille into her soup? Tar and feathers? Blackmail? Turn her into a giant canary? The possibilities were endless - and stood, striding over to the door and shutting it quite loudly considering how little space there was between the door and the doorjamb, and locked the manual locks in addition to magically locking it.

Turning with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Fred tossed his wand haphazardly onto the nightstand and flopped face-first onto the twins' bed. Even from there he could smell Ginny's shampoo. A grin spread across his face. George really needed to look at what he was picking up before he washed.

Scooting forward, Fred buried his face in George's pillow, his arms slipping underneath it to hold it, and let the intoxicating scent of his other half overtake him for a moment.

All at once, Fred was on his feet, anger flooding him, frustration, hurt, and he glared at the pillow as if it were George and not just his pillow.

_Why won't you just talk to me? Why does it seem so impossible to overcome? I can't stand to be around you anymore! I have strange thoughts, and wishes, and I don't know what you're thinking anymore. I don't know how to tell you anything anymore. It's growing and growing and soon the elephant that is always present in the room with us will step on us and it'll all fall to pieces._

"George... what happened?" Fred felt his glare slowly fading into sadness and carefully circled to his side of the bed, slipping under the covers and sighing into his own pillow, pushing George's as far to the other side of the bed as possible, and wishing that Ginny didn't use such strong shampoo.

----__

And we are, we are, we are the arsons  
who start all of your fires

And we are the arsons  
who start all of your fires, burning  
Burning your city down

----

Ginny left Ron in the hallway with a nice red mark on his face, storming to her bedroom and shutting the door before sitting on her bed. Amidst her anger lurked a thought; was that George that had come up on the landing as she was leaving? She hadn't really payed attention to her older brother, as she was too busy punishing Ron.

Perhaps George would talk to Fred and they'd sort something out. She peeked out of her door cautiously, looking down the hall.

George was listening at the door. He faced away from her, so she couldn't make out his expression. Damn. Ginny slipped back into her room, defeated for now, and fell onto her bed, looking up at the ceiling.

Her anger at Ron faded quickly as it was replaced by fear and a morbid curiosity, George pushed temporarily out of her mind. What would Fred do to her? She had a sinking feeling that it might involve Puking Pastilles and swallowed nervously. Well, that settled it, she wasn't eating for at least a month. Maybe two.

----

_Tonight my heart is cold  
Lost in your lies, shallow replies  
Tonight I'll just let go  
Lost in your eyes, transparent cries_

----

"George... what happened?"

George had pressed his ear against the door in case Fred continued, but there was silence. George bit his lip. He heard the creak of their bed as Fred settled back into it with a muffled sigh. George sighed himself and turned, leaning his back against the door and staring at the wooden trim along the seam between the hallway ceiling and the wall.

That hadn't helped at all except to tell him that his brother was as clueless as he was. What had happened? They were falling apart. They were surrounded by guilt, shame, anger, confusion...they were surrounded by something huge.

"Elephants." George whispered.

----

_Tonight my heart is cold  
Lost in your lies, shallow replies  
Tonight I'll just let go  
Lost in your eyes, transparent cries_

----

03/11 I finally finished!! Sorry for the wait, guys. Please read and review, tell me how you liked it. Also, I've a bit of a poll question.

**Do you prefer writing your fics out on paper, or typing them on the computer?**

I personally like the computer. I try to write them down, but I find that my ideas flow more easily with a keyboard at my mercy. Maybe I'm just lazy. Ahaha:

Thanks for reading! I'll update again as soon as I can, maybe after I get some reviews. wink

-Char-

03/12 Review!

fly-away-free: I really liked it! I'm a big twincest fan, but this fic is killing me!! I feel like taking Fred and George and putting them in a room, and yelling, "TALK TO EACH OTHER!". And I prefer writing on the computer, for everything except essays for English class.

_Thank you! Ahaha, I know, even though I'm the author and I sort of know what's going to happen (well, not entirely, sometimes ideas flow out that surprise me), I want to do the same. Throw them in a closet, lock the door and let them work it out. wink! Thanks again for reviewing __and__ answering my poll question type thing!_

Angels-above: ooh this is so kl! yeah I hope that fred and george figure some stuff out soon! go twincest! lol! and in answer to your question, i find it hard to sequence ideas on paper, so pc definitly, and then you can read it through, and it is actually legiable!lol! anyway please update soon this is very very good! well done!

_ Thanks!! Haha, so do I. Er, yeah, read the above review to make sense of what I just said. Haha! Yeah, I do too, I hate writing my stories out because I...I don't know, it's like I lose patience with my writing speed because it takes so long the ideas are practically fading away as I try to catch up to my mind!! I have a typing speed of somewhere in the 60's I think, last time I took a typing test (8th grade? I have no idea). So, yeah, in all honesty I think I'm just too lazy and don't want to wait to write it all out. Haha! I'll try, I've got loads of homework. Thanks again!_

michiei: I LOVED IT! It makes me kinda sad. Are they going to end up together? I hope so. Anyway, I love it and I can't wait for the next chapter so...update soon! Thanks

_Thanks! Hmm, I don't know, you'll have to wait and see. grin I'll tryyyyy! Thank you again!_

StAtic Streetlight: oh my god, why don't more people review this fic? I absolutely adored it! You're really talented! I have read an A LOT of fanfics, and this one goes straight to my favourites! I loved how well you described the awkwardness between them, and the mood was just so right... and the songs fitted perfectly... and aww :3! it was so sweet how they touched each other when they thought the other was asleep. I hope they get together eventually, just don't make it too soon, you know, for credibility and such... but I don't mind at all that it has prospects of being long. Hope you won't give up on it, it has real potential! Hope you update soon ! p.s. just like rain-feathers I got an account just to review your story :P!

_Wow! This review made my week!! Thank you so much? Yes, why don't more people review this? Rawr! I looooove writing this stuff...Yeah, they're not going to get any closer anytime soon, I have a feeling you all may be seeing just the opposite. sadface But never fear! The future is bright. This will definitely be long...I hope. I'll try to update soon, I'm just soooo SWAMPED. Stupid school. Wow! Thank you so much!_

stolenenchantment:adores: oh, my god. I love this story. there is NOT enough twincest on this site anymore. keep it up girly

_Awww, thank you!! I know, I totally agree. Twincest is amazing. _

03/31 Well, guys, I just got back from prom! Ugh...I am so exhausted. But it was great fun. )

I didn't get to dance with the guy I wanted to. sadface

But it was still amazing.

I'm working on the next chapter, I swear! My teachers have spontaneously decided to pile on the homework and have their big unit tests all at the same time, and I am drowning in school. UGHHH. Tomorrow I'll work on it as best I can, but I have to make chicken paella for my Spanish project on Tuesday. I may just do it Monday night. This is insane. I can't wait until we're finally out and I can lie around and write fanfiction allllll day. ) ) ) )

Look for an update soon.

Love,

Char

04/12 Well, the play has officially started! I do Box Office and will be tied up until after Sunday. I've been working on Chapter 4...I'm so sorry, guys, it's been so hectic lately! I have hardly any time! But I have been working on it and have the next few chapters planned out as well. I'm trying!!

Love,

Char

More Reviews!

Jennicula: I use the computer. I sometimes can't read my own writing, so... lol. I love this story, the awkwardness is... interesting. Two people that know everything about each other are still nervous. Interesting...

_Thank you! Yeah, the awkwardness is a bit odd...If I were a twin, though, and loved my twin I'd be a bit nervous, lol. Thanks for reviewing!!_

Andiana: I love, love, love the way you type out your stories. It's not all from one perspective, very nice. I love Anberlin myself also, so when I read these chapters, I put on the song that you have through the chapter. Hah, odd, but it works. Continue your good work, I honestly can't wait to see what happens between Gred and Forge next.

_Thank you!! Haha, yes, I listen to the songs as well as I type, though sometimes I let it shuffle to other songs and go with the flow, lol! Thank you so much! Me too! giggles _

05/06 I've been frantically looking for my bloody plot thread. Without it, I've lost my ideas for the next few chapters and I'm entirely blank. Ugh. I'm trying guys, all my teachers decided to pile on the bloody projects and huge unit tests all at once. I'll try to get out the next chapter this week. Please forgive me.

Love,

Char


	4. Secrets

**Mirror Image: Secrets.  
**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does, though I'd love to take the twins home with me.

**Pairings: **Fred/George

**Summary: **Fred and George each make a decision, but while they are very different, are either of them wise ones? Ginny makes a decision as well, a decision to take matters into her own hands; but she can't do it alone.  
**Song: **Reclusion by Anberlin 

_There's someone inside me that softly kills everyone around.  
They don't know they're dead to me, cause intent never makes a sound.  
All along they found I strangled lovers who've learned from slower hands,  
With these eleven minutes I could teach you what I am..._

---

Ginny Weasley had contented herself with sitting in her bedroom and pondering the strange events going on within the family for a whole of two minutes, before easing her door open again and peering down the hallway. George was still there, forehead resting against the door, looking entirely miserable. Ginny felt a pang of sisterly empathy and considered giving him a hug and asking properly to explain what was going on, but figured he'd never tell her, even if she did go out of her way to make that lovely hot chocolate with cinnamon and marshmallows and everything for him. She'd built up too much of a reputation with the twins for not being overly sisterly, and she'd be buggered if she tried to start now.

Now, what was that George had whispered a few moments ago? It sounded vaguely like Fred's 'Elephants' she'd overheard earlier before she'd had the pleasure of smacking the wits out of Ron. Giving a huff of irritation, she wondered what the devil they meant by elephants. Ginny decided she'd have to formulate some sort of plan of action soon; as annoying as they may be when they wreaked their usual degrees of havoc on her, she wanted this to be fixed. For Fred and George to stop giving each other strange looks and not sitting together and making such an effort not to touch each other or stand too near to each other.

She wanted her twins back.

Ginny closed her door quietly and sat at the little card table she'd set up as a writing desk; one of the legs was shorter than the rest and as a result it wobbled a bit, and the surface wasn't completely flat and even, but it was good enough. Tucking her legs underneath her and pulling out a notebook with lined paper just like the muggle children used, Ginny opened her ink pot and poised the quill over the college-ruled page. Some habits would never die.

---

_You're sick, sick as all the  
Secrets that you deny,  
Sins like skeletons are so very hard to hide...  
You're sick, sick as all the  
Secrets that you deny,  
Sins like skeletons are so very hard to hide._

---

Fred let out a short sigh of irritation. No matter how far away he pushed George's pillow, the scent of strawberries lingered. He settled with trying to ignore it, as hard as that was becoming. Now, for this rift that had come between him and George; what to do? Fred knew that the fault was partially his, and partially George's, but there was some extra factor that had creeped in as did the thick fog that usually settled around the Burrow in the very early morning, disappearing by sunrise and leaving the vague, lingering sense of a dream one remembered having that was slowly being forgotten the longer they stayed awake.

Fred had a sinking suspicion of what the extra factor might be; the undeniable urge he had to do things to his twin that were unimaginably wrong to do to someone even remotely related to you. He knew George was feeling the same, though he wasn't entirely sure if George felt with the same intensity. It scared Fred out of his wits how much he wanted this, and the more he thought about this fact, recognized it and knew it to be true, the more angry he became; with himself (both for having these feelings and for not carrying them out), with George (for simpy being there to tempt him), with everyone (for molding his mind to think this sort of thing was ineffably wrong and looked down upon). He knew it was irrational, but he couldn't help this anger from bubbling under the surface of his skin.

Fred had always done or said or thought something if he'd wanted to; he was the more headstrong twin, the more reckless, the more intense in his manner of living and thinking and being. Another thing that no one but George and himself would know. The fact that this so confused him, that it was so complex and taboo and tempting and that he couldn't bring himself to make a decision, was what fueled his anger.

And so he lay in bed, thinking and fuming and _wanting_, while just outside the door, the object at the center of this mess stood, stewing in misery for all the same reasons.

---

_There's an art in seclusion, production in depression;  
if a stranger turns up missing, this song is my confession.  
Tell the tales of the trail of dead, lovers learn from slower hands,  
Losing self in myself, inner demons make demands._

---

Ron smirked as he poured a fresh cup of tea for himself, his face still stinging but his ego remaining unharmed. Served Ginny right for being such a snoop. Not that Ron had done it purely out of respect for the twins; he'd more done it for his own amusement. The twins would sooner turn him into a beach ball than thank him, even if he HAD done it for their benefit. The twins...

That brought up some interesting thoughts. While Ron wasn't one to be in tune to the family's inner workings, he couldn't have helped but notice the odd feeling nowadays around those two. They'd always been easygoing and comfortable around each other, walking closely and sitting together and sharing this sort of intimate air of having something no one else in the family had; the special bond of being twins together. Recently something had changed, though Ron couldn't quite place his finger on what. It seemed as though they spoke less, laughed less, pranked less. And they acted funny around each other, keeping an oddly large space between themselves, fidgeting around and giving each other strange looks.

He wondered if something had happened; if they'd had a fight or something of the sort. Nah; whenever they got into one of their rare spats, they'd always bounced back very quickly and gone back to being attached at the hip. Ron had a thought he hadn't considered; maybe they were fighting over a girl. They'd always both been particularly fond of Angelina Johnson.

Ron leaned against the counter, gingerly sipping his tea in what he knew was a very ladylike manner, but he was alone so it wasn't of importance. It was bloody hot, and he would sip daintily if he liked. It wasn't as if anyone could see him.

---

_You're sick, sick as all the  
Secrets that you deny,  
Sins like skeletons are so very hard to hide...  
You're sick, sick as all the  
Secrets that you deny,  
Sins like skeletons are so very hard to hide._

---

George didn't know how long he'd been standing there, leaning against the door and listening for anything from his twin, when he finally stood up, disappointment fighting with sadness on his face. Not entirely sure where to go, George stood silently for a moment before turning and ascending the narrow staircase to the attic. He never went there unless it was absolutely necessary; no one would look for him there. He just needed to be alone with his thoughts for a bit.

Closing the door behind him, George wrinkled his nose slightly in the dim attic. It was very dusty up here, musky, thick, and George knew then why he never came up here in the first place. Carefully, George slipped around the boxes, finding a small pathway to take all the way to the opposite wall, where there was a small, round window caked in dust. Wrenching it open, he delighted in the rush of fresh air, dropping down to the floor next to it and leaning against the wall as the air slowly filtered through the attic. The ghost lurked in the corner, having being woken by George's entry, and peered at him, giving a little groan and clanking of the pipes around him.

"Nope, I'm not scared, and I'm not leaving. Sorry." George told him with a shrug, turning to look out the window again. The ghost, a bit disappointed, settled back to his nap and left George to ponder.

He'd always been the slightly more passive twin, the more gentle. Fred was more passionate and determined; when he wanted something, he did whatever necessary to get it. He was...intense. George was a bit more cautious, a little shy, even. The thought of revealing anything to Fred flooded him with anxiety, forced his mind into an unending cycle of analyzing all the possibilities, however ridiculous or unlikely, to try and stop him. To keep him safe.

An image of Fred yelling at him wasn't nearly as frightening as an image of Fred completely silent, treating George as a ghost; invisible, silent, nonexistant. Unrecognizable. George stared solemnly out the window, biting his lower lip as he thought it over.

"What do you think?" he asked the ghost, who replied with a low groan and a half-hearted clank against one of the smaller pipes before falling back asleep. George sighed heavily and nodded.

"You're right. I should just keep it to myself for a little longer."

---

_You're suffocating me, so very hard to breathe,  
My mask is growing heavy but I've forgotten who's beneath._

---

Ginny made a noise of discontent, almost a growl, and slammed her quill onto her table with much more force than necessary; the ink pot nearly tipped over, and the table wobbled precariously, its strange balance suddenly disturbed. The open notebook page said, "Fred & George" at the top in Ginny's thin, swirling script. That was all she had written.

Unfolding from the chair and stretching out her stiff limbs, Ginny decided perhaps a cup of hot tea would help the thought process. Maybe a piece of toast. With some of that lovely chocolate hazelnut spread. Hell, while she was at it, maybe a whole sandwich. Anything to contribute to the Fred And George Unity Effort, or as Ginny had come to thing of it, FAGUE, said as one would say vague but with an 'f'. It had a certain official ring to it. It gave Ginny the faint want of a secretary and some disciples to set about snooping for information and organizing things, simply for the sake of making an organization out of it. They could even have FAGUE tee shirts. Ginny knew that, sadly, it probably (hopefully) wouldn't last too long, and she'd be stuck with a tee shirt that served no purpose anymore, cause-wise.

Padding down the hallway in a silent, cat-like manner, Ginny noticed George had gone. Wondering where he'd gone, Ginny focused a good amount of energy into listening as acutely as possible as she passed the twins' bedroom door, but heard nothing.

Noiselessly turning the corner into the kitchen, Ginny put a hand over her mouth and shook with a silent, repressed snicker. Ron was drinking tea in an extremely feminine manner, pinky extended and all.

"Hello, _madame_." Ginny snickered, giving into temptation. As Ron spluttered about in a panic, his saucer nearly crashing to the floor, Ginny calmly poured a cup of tea and shoved two pieces of bread into the toasting oven, taking a plate and knife from their places in the cupboards and setting them out before turning to Ron with a serious expression.

"There is something wrong going on here and we're going to fix it." Ginny said matter-of-factly. Ron simply raised an eyebrow.

"We? I don't think so." Ginny gave him a look that would have curdled milk and Ron visibly shrank an inch or two. She could be a right demon when she put her mind to it.

"I wasn't asking."

---

_You're sick, sick as all the  
Secrets that you deny,  
Sins like skeletons are so very hard to hide...  
_

---

With a heavy sigh, Fred rolled out of bed, getting to his feet with a groan and stretching. He'd been laying in bed for almost two hours, staring into space and thinking. The silence was killing him; he'd decided to make a miraculous recovery and challenge his brothers to another game of Quidditch.

That wasn't the only thing he'd decided to do; Fred cast a nervous glance at the drawer of his and George's cramped little writing desk that he knew held parchment, long, blank sheets beckoning his quill. Opening the drawer slowly, he pulled out one of these sheets, holding it up to the light and peering at it curiously for a moment, as if it held some sort of declaration that would either dissuade him or confirm his decision. It was, of course, entirely blank, and with a sigh he picked uo his quill.

Scribbling a short note, Fred bit his lip in concentration, the jet black ink quickly drying as he wrote, cementing his curly script in a very final manner that made Fred's heart flutter with anxiety. Quickly signing his name and rolling it into a small scroll, Fred almost ran from his bedroom and into the kitchen where he knew Erroll waited patiently on his perch above the sink. Thrusting it at the sable owl, who gave him a cockeyed look before taking it, he told the addled owl the destination in a breathless voice, shooing him away before Fred could change his mind. His heart sinking as he watched Erroll shrink to a gray speck against the blue sky and finally disappear from sight, Fred tried to steady his nerves.

This would solve the problem.  
It would.

It had to.

Silently, Fred trudged back to his and George's bedroom, climbing back into their bed. Ironically enough, now he sincerely felt ill.

He made sure to shove George's pillow clear off the bed before settling in under the covers and drifting back to sleep.

Several miles away, Erroll soared through the sky (weaving only just slightly), Fred's instruction fresh in his mind.

_**'Take this to Angelina Johnson.'**_

---

_You're sick, sick as all the  
Secrets that you deny,  
Sins like skeletons are so very hard to hide._

---

**Reviews:**

Fool4Sasuke33: I shall update within a week, I should think, so never fear! Your suspense shall be satisfied. Thank you!!

Angels-Above: Aww, thank you so much:chucks huge crates of chocolate and Harry plushies at her: -lol- No problem, I felt really bad and wanted to let everyone know ASAP so they wouldn't be in the dark. Well, I guess you'll have to find out! -lol- Yes, I was surprised; I didn't actually listen to the song this time around until I'd already submitted the chapter. I had just loved the lyrics. I love the song itself! It's intense. Heh, I wouldn't call it FUN, per say, but I'll try. Thank you!!

**  
Author's Note:**

YAY!

IT'S FINALLY HERE!

:D

Again, sorrysorrysorry for the wait. By the way, I realize these lyrics don't really fit in the sense that the beginning is speaking of strangling lovers and whatnot, but I really enjoyed the "secrets that you deny, sins like skeletons are so very hard to hide" and "my mask is growing heavy but I've forgotten who's underneath" parts. A lot.

They're sort of meant to convey that they won't be able to keep these things to themselves much longer, I suppose, and that keeping it a secret is causing trouble. Not deaths, per say, but issues within their relationship.

I know in the message I sent to you all I said I'd try to have Chapter 5 up by Saturday, but it's looking a bit... impossible, at this point.  
But, as Walt Disney said, "It's fun to do the impossible." lol  
I have Band Camp and then a lunch date with friends tomorrow, so I'll have the late afternoon and evening to write, and then Thursday and Friday I may be tied up at Band Camp from 8 am to 2 pm, but those days are for all new marchers who need to learn the basics, and we're not sure if the band director needs us (Color Guard) to be there unless we're new (which I'm definitely not), so I may or may not have two free days.

Thursday afterwards I'm free to write, so you never know, and I have Friday afternoon as well, but that night I'm seeing Hairspray (squeeee) and then going to the Borders release party. lol I'm a geek.

So, I may be able to get it done and up by Saturday, but I'm just warning you all that I may not be able to due to circumstances (listed above, obviously) that I forgot to consider when I sent the message.

Thank you for your patience! (i.e., not coming after me with torches and pitchforks lol)

I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

-Char-

**Author's Note Edit 1 [07/19:**

Well, I don't have to go to band camp tomorrow:does happy dance:

I'm seeing Hairspray at 4:30, so I can work on it until then, and I'll have a good few hours between the end of that and whenever I leave for the Harry Potter release party.   
Yay, geekosity!

Hahaha!

So, I may or may not get it done then. I hope I can. :hopeface:

From the time I obtain the book to the time I have to go in to volunteer on Saturday morning, I will be utterly unvailable. No sleep until I've finished. Then, volunteering. Then, probably some sleeping. Then some writing.  
WOOT!

-Char- 


End file.
